


Blurred Lines

by LadyoftheWoods



Series: Sanders Sides [17]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22153912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods
Summary: Deceit pays a visit to check up on Patton, but he's forgotten just how strong the other sides' rooms can be. In the process, Thomas learns some new information about the origins of his sides.
Series: Sanders Sides [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594594
Comments: 4
Kudos: 80





	1. Paying a Visit

Deceit was pacing his room. Not unusual for him. It was how he thought, how he schemed, movement let his mind flow, let him focus only on his objective, let him decide how best to manipulate or destroy his target. At least, that’s what he had done.  
Now, now he was pacing because he was debating with himself whether or not to go to Patton’s room. Because something was bothering the side, something was off with him, and he had to know what or why. In the past it would be so he could tear Patton down, make him doubt himself and his morals, gain more sway over the mindscape.  
But that thought burned like acid on his tongue, made his chest ache with guilt because that thought was still the first one to cross his mind, the idea that he could work with this, gain something from it, manipulate it into his own game.  
But that’s how this all had happened in the first place. Sure, Despair had done all the dirty work, nearly tearing the mind apart, but it was Milo who’d brought all of them low enough for his influence to mean anything. Impersonating Patton, the courtroom, his little pop ins on Virgil, all of it added up to Despair having all the power he could ever want.  
He stopped pacing, taking a breath. This thinking was getting him nowhere. Blaming himself, wallowing in pity and misery accomplished nothing. He was an accepted part of the group now, an accepted part of Thomas, he was on the light side, their side.  
But you aren’t. Not in Thomas’s eyes. That little voice in the back of his head murmured, and he drew in a sharp breath. No, he wouldn’t let that thought linger, he wouldn’t let that thought fester. And he wouldn’t stay in his room letting them grow a moment longer. Forcing himself not to hesitate, he stepped outside.  
It was such an abrupt shift. He still wasn’t used to it. The dark side was… not exactly welcoming. It was, as one might expect, dark. Threatening, might be a better word. The few common areas there were, were scarcely used, and certainly not for movie nights or family dinners or game days. It was bleak and hard and cold, and if you showed any softness someone would pounce. It was filled with Remus’s caterwauling or demented laughter, with wrath’s flaming ire, with envy’s brilliant cold, with despair’s aching emptiness, with Milo’s own twisted truths. He was used to fear.  
Not warmth. Not love, or hope or kindness. Not the sounds of laughter coming from the living room, the smell of pancakes in the morning, the sound of Roman singing, of Patton giggling, of Logan sighing, but smiling anyway, of faint music from Virgil’s headphones. It took his breath away, every time he left his room, that this was home, now, that he was allowed to stay, expected to stay. Wanted.  
Are you? Whispered that voice in his head. Are you really? Once again, he pushed it aside, clearing his mind of the nonsense reflections going on inside it as he reached the outside of Patton’s door. He was fine. It was Patton he needed to check on.  
It was his shade of blue, of course. The nameplate looked like one of those stickers you got at large family reunions, a “Hello, my name is” sticker, in the shape of a cat face. The door was decorated with brightly colored star stickers as well, in reds, greens, violets. The color choice wasn’t lost on him, but he ignored it as he knocked.  
“Come in!” Patton’s cheery voice trilled, and he stiffened, pushing open the door and stepping inside.  
He’d never actually been in Patton’s room before. It was cozy, bright, artwork adorned the walls, retro toys sat on shelves, stuffed animals littered the bed, the air seemed lighter somehow, the light brighter. It was as sweet and warm as he’d expected it to be, nothing less from Patton, of course.  
But it was the emotion the room invoked that hit him hardest. Because of any of the rooms, Patton’s was the one most linked to pure emotion, feelings, nostalgia. Memories.  
He saw Remus, shaking and terrified, begging Milo to fix him, to put them back together, because he hated this, hated himself, wanted the hurt to just go away.  
He saw Virgil, leaving, his bitter words, their fight, the seed of desperation and fear and need to prove that he was right, he was always right, already blossoming in his chest.  
He saw the day it all shifted. The day the mindscape broke into two, the day he was shoved back, back, back into the mind, gone from sight, but not from influence, wondering what he’d done wrong to be forced out. They all were wondering that, all were broken then. But memories from before the split were tricky, tricky things, and they faded so, so easily. Part of Thomas being young, he supposed, his memory not fully formed, nor his mind, his thoughts were their thoughts, after all, so of course they all forgot they’d ever been one.  
Deceit didn’t, of course. Something about him was different, perhaps how he toed the line between light and dark, how he was still a major player even if he wasn’t seen, how often Thomas used him, without even realizing. Maybe because of his role in self preservation, trying to keep together what was left of his sides. Or maybe he just clung so hard to what had been, what could have been, that the memories hadn’t managed to wriggle free of his grasp yet.  
Oh, he didn’t have much. Warmth. Love. Unity. The mind working together, instead of against itself, a crowded, noisy living room, raucous family dinners, all of them heaped on top of and around each other as they tried to stay up all night, falling asleep one by one. Before they were assigned the roles of good and bad, before they had to be one or the other, before Thomas locked them out, and made them into the enemy. What could have been, would have been, if that hadn’t happened? And the cause of it all, as accidental as it may have been, was standing before him, saying his name, asking if he was alright when that was the question intended for him.  
“Yes. Obviously, I’m perfectly… perfectly fine.” He answered, realizing his hands were curled tight, catching his voice before it trembled, broke. “In fact, that’s the question I came here to ask you.” He replied, before Patton had time to further question him, because he couldn’t delve into that, not here, not with him. Instead he waltzed across the room, taking a seat in what looked to be a chair from a school desk. Not the most comfortable, but he’d dealt with worse.  
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” Patton asked, barely hesitating, but he did. And there, that guardedness to his eyes.  
“Shall I list the reasons I suspect otherwise? You were held captive in a mind prison built by wrath, you very nearly lost your best friend under horrible circumstances, you’ve had to adjust to two former dark sides moving to the light side, one of whom is your polar opposite, the other of whom is chaos incarnate, you related far too much to Elsa while she sang let it go.” He paused, taking a breath. “Also, I can tell you haven’t been sleeping, last I checked Virgil is the one who’s a fan of makeup, you could use some pointers from him on the use of concealer.” He finished, making Patton’s cheeks burn. He cursed internally at the unintended harshness in his tone.  
“I didn’t mean…my point is, a lot has happened recently, and a lot of things are changing and I know you have a difficult time adjusting to new… arrangements.”  
Another flash of another life. They were standing in the dark, almost pure dark. Milo was gaping, disbelief then fury then hurt then regret then pain then fury flickering across his face. How dare he, how could he, they had to get back! He tried sinking down, tried but felt… felt nothing. He was untethered, they were untethered. He could is see it there, gleaming with light, far off warmth, but it was always out of reach, it was so far away, and he knew even if he reached it those gates wouldn’t open for him, for any of them.  
Because lying was bad. Being mad was bad. Wanting something from someone else was bad. Being scared was bad. That was what the teachers were teaching, what the parents were saying, what the story books convinced Thomas of. It’s what Morality had said. So it was true.  
They were the bad guys. Being creative, and virtuous, and logical, were the best ways to be. Anything else didn’t deserve attention.  
“What… what do… do we do?” He turned at the quiet, tear soaked voice beside him, pulling Lucian close, holding him tight.  
“Prove Morality wrong. We’re no different. We’re no worse or better. We are important. We can make them see that. Then they’ll let us back in. They have to.” He replied, voice fierce but trembling. He heard Virgil gasp and looked down, shaking.  
“and your face…” That was envy, for once anything but. He’d squared his shoulders.  
“It doesn’t matter. If I’m the villain, so what? I can still do my job. Maybe do it better. Make them listen. I will make them listen.” And he had. 

He realized Patton had been talking, spluttering excuses, stammering over himself, he hadn’t seemed to realize Milo’s slip, for which he was grateful. He tugged harder at the edges of his gloves, comforting himself in knowing they were on firmly.  
“Pat. It’s ok to be not ok. You don’t need to make excuses. You can just say things are moving fast and I’m not ready for this, and I’m afraid of it. That’s ok. It’s ok that you’re still afraid of me. It’s ok that you still dislike, to put it mildly, Remus, it’s ok that you’re not… ready. Just talk to someone about it, if you can’t to me.” 

A knock on the door to their side of the mindscape. Deceit’s head had shot up, wariness and confusion marring his face. No one came to the dark side. It was three years after the split, Thomas was 13, no one had ever come looking for them, cared that they were stuck here. Well. Whomever it was had another thing coming if they thought they could just waltz in.  
“What?” He asked sharply, throwing open the door, ready to rain his wrath down upon the intruder-  
What he wasn’t ready for was the pressure around his waist, clinging so tight he could barely breath, feeling tears stain his clothes.  
“Please, please I can’t… I can’t go back, I almost… I lost it… I thought I could do it, I thought I could keep it all in, but it just… and I… you have to let me stay.” Deceit’s breath caught at the neon green eyes staring back at him, tear streaked and red rimmed. It was creativity, but it wasn’t.  
“Slow down. What… who are you?” It wasn’t everyday Thomas got a new side, after all, much less one that had been on the light side, one he was aware of.  
“I’m… we… were Creativity. But something… happened. We split. I-I’m Remus now. The other part of me… of Him… is Roman. I tried, I tried to be good, I tried to make, and… and create, and be just like we were, but it all comes out… out twisted, and wrong, and horrible, and I just… I just, I hurt him. I hurt Roman. I couldn’t help it, it just… burst out of me! I didn’t mean it! I didn’t, just make it go away, just fix me!“ He broke off, near hyperventilating, and Milo knew the signs of a panic attack enough to recognize this one.  
“Hey. Listen to my voice, ok? Just my voice. Now, we’re going to breath. I’ll count, you copy, when you can. In, one, two, three, four. Hold, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Out, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.” He repeated the mantra until the side was calmed, well calmer. He still exuded a manic energy, but something told Milo that was normal for him.  
“You are not broken. You are not evil or bad or scary. Your ideas aren’t any less worthy or valid than… than Roman’s. Don’t listen to what they tell you. They can’t see past their tiny ideals of right and wrong, to what’s actually true.”  
“They said… they said you did nothing but lie.” Milo narrowed his eyes and hissed, making Remus pull back. But it wasn’t at him, he realized, it was at the light coming through the still open door.  
“Of course they would. So righteous and stuck up. Tell me, why do you think we’re here, in the dark? Don’t you think we want to help Thomas too? Don’t you think lying has its uses, that being angry can be powerful, that being envious can lead to ambition? They, the so called light sides, they locked us out. Patton locked us out. They threw us here, into the dark, and we had to scrape together what we could just so we wouldn’t disappear. We had to start from scratch to scrabble for influence, because despite Their protests Thomas still needs us.” Remus jumped as the door closed behind him, and Deceit sighed.  
“You… you can’t create?” Milo looked at him with confusion, but something almost hopeful was in Remus’s voice now.  
“No? All of this is what the four of us could make, using all our power. Not much. Barely anything, really. Most of us lean towards more, well, destructive tendencies.” Remus’s eyes lit up and he clapped his hands, excitement coming into his face.  
“Alright, time for an expansion!” And he started imagining. Deceit had watched him, watched his eyes light up, his whole being relax as he spun into existence a copy of the light side, the living room, the kitchen, the hallways, but twisting them, changing them in unpredictable, nonsensical ways. And he promised himself that Remus would never be cast out, thrown away, again.  
It was nice to have actual space, to feel like they had something of a home now, he knew that it had been Patton, again it must have been. What else had he been unaware of, going on in the light side? Well. He’d been stuck long enough. Time to find a way out.

He shoved the memories away, straining like they were physical weight, barely managing to stave them off, actually nearly falling out of his seat. He took a breath, squeezing his hands to keep them from trembling  
He was fine. These memories were in the past, they didn’t matter, they didn’t hurt, it was fine, he was fine. He was here now, and that’s what mattered.  
“Milo?” He could feel the color draining from his face, the strange tingling spreading up his body, but he couldn’t answer, couldn’t seem to remember what words were.  
He didn’t have time before the next memory hit. No. Nononono not this one, please…  
“Why are you still trying, Virgil?” He was leaning against the wall of Virgil’s room, examining his gloves, using that too smooth voice of his. He tried to stop, tried to say sorry, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t change it.  
“Go. Away.”  
“You know they don’t want you. They’ve made that plenty clear, surely even you can see it.” He was screaming, inside, screaming at himself to stop, even as the scene continued.  
“Patton likes me.” Was Virgil’s reply, from where he was curled in blankets on the bed, glaring at him. Milo chuckled, a deep, dark sound. He hated it.  
“Oh, please. Patton is like cotton candy, all fluff, no substance. Besides, even if you count him, that’s, what, Roman, Logan, Thomas, ah! One out of four. Not exactly a passing grade.” He’d watched Virgil’s breath stutter, saw the cracks appearing in his façade. A push, a push and he’d be over the edge.  
“Do you think,” He paused, letting the tension hang in the air, “that a single one of them would come looking for you?” The silence hung, thick and heavy, and the last of Virgil’s determination fled as he closed his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks.  
“They. Don’t. Care. They will never, care. They will never understand. And you, well, you’re just wasting your time trying to convince them of something even you don’t believe.”  
“shut up.” Virgil whispered, voice barely there.  
“That you deserve to be loved.” He vanished with a vicious smile, hearing Virgil’s stifled sob before he reappeared in his room. He let a victorious smile slip onto his face. Virgil would lock himself away, no one would come, and he’d realize that the only ones who cared were here in the dark. Like he should be. Instead, instead he’d ducked out, locked himself away, it was akin to suicide, enough time passing and he would have simply vanished. His fault, it was his fault, and he hated himself, hated himself for it, hated every stupid, worthless word he’d ever spoken.

Patton didn’t know what to do. He’d never seen this before, wasn’t entirely sure what it was. Milo’s color was… was draining. He hadn’t noticed it, at first, but it was happening faster now, the yellow was seeping out of his gloves, the black out of his half cloak, the pink of his skin, it was becoming… sepia.  
The room. It was like when they were all in Virgil’s room and got eyeshadow marks because the aura of the room was corrupting them. His room was corrupting Deceit. Trying to turn him into something else.  
“Milo, you have to get up.” He shook the side’s shoulder, noticing for the first time how hard he was starting to shake, eyes squeezed tightly shut, a soft whisper of “nonono please” falling out of his mouth like a waterfall cascade. He had to get Milo out. Now.  
He was drowning, drowning, drowning, it was so deep, it was so dark, and he couldn’t pull up out of this spiral and it hurt. It burned like acid in his throat, all the words he’d spoken, scorching his lungs like fire. It pounded in his head until his brain was thick with his own lies, tangling themselves over his tongue. He was sorry, so desperately sorry, and nothing could fix this, nothing could, and it turned his insides to ice. It hurthurthurthurthurt as it ate away at him. 

Then suddenly the smothering weight on his chest vanished and he could breathe, and he felt himself breathing and he couldn’t care about anything else as the agony cleared from his mind and he started being able to think.  
“You tore your gloves. Your hands are bleeding.” Patton, concern in his voice. He felt hands on his, felt fabric being pulled, and he gained awareness, sharp and panicked.  
“Don’t-“ But it was too late. He blinked open his eyes and Patton had slid off his gloves, and Milo hissed, curling his arms up against his chest, squeezing the chain of his cape tight, making sure the sleeves were as high as they went, revealed as little as he could. He didn’t want to look at them, he didn’t want to look at Patton’s face, he didn’t want to be doing this right now.  
“Milo, let me see.” He shook his head, unable to form words past the lump in his throat, past the memories still flitting through his head, past the guilt eating away at him, past the fear pounding, pounding in his chest.  
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The apology seemed the only thing he could say, the only words he could summon, though he wasn’t sure to whom or for what, exactly he was apologizing. Patton, the world, Thomas, for his own very existence?  
“Hey. Hey kiddo. It’s ok. Shh, shh, it’s ok.” He felt Patton pull him close, trying to comfort him, trying to calm him, but his touch made Milo recoil as he swiped at his eyes, trying to still the sobs threatening to tear free from his throat, as he struggled to gain his composure, because it wasn’t, it really, really, wasn’t Patton’s fault. It was society’s, it was the values instilled in children, it was the world that had made things this way, but still, he was afraid. And now he’d shown his weakness, and any moment the final blow would come and he couldn’t stand going back to that dark now that he knew what if felt like to be standing in the light. He’d seen his hands, he knew what a monster he was, he was going to force him away again, he was going to lose everything. His heart rate spiked and his breath faltered in his lungs.  
Slowly, he became aware of his surroundings, of the cool tile against his legs, the wall behind him, the hallway stretching out before him. The hallway, Patton had dragged him out into the hallway, when he’d realized what the room was doing.  
“milo, please-“ he felt Patton reach out, could see him trying, and that only made the guilt and fear and memories worse, so he did the only thing he’d ever been good at. He ran away. He vanished his door. He disappeared. 

Patton’s hand was left trailing in empty space, looking wide eyed at the spot where seconds earlier Milo had been. He knew how negatively Roman’s room affected Virgil, he should have guessed his room would be the same to Deceit. And he’d been afraid. Patton could feel the fear still permeating the air, still dispersing into the mindscape, but it was strong and potent and real.  
Why would Milo be afraid? Of… of him? Of Patton? No one was afraid of him. He was the one most likely to not be scary. Virgil, in his room, had gotten scared too, in a different way. In his own anxious way. Was it truths that were scaring Deceit? That would make sense, but that’s not what it felt like. Milo lied, sure, but he was aware of when and how he lied, of when he twisted the truth and when he let it be, he wasn’t afraid of the truth, he was more aware of it than anyone else.  
Memories? That was the other key to his room, what had gotten Virgil the most riled up, old memories, cringy things he’d done or said or thought. Emotions. Emotional memories. He could see that, he knew Milo hadn’t been the best person in the past, knew he had a tumultuous history being in charge of the dark sides, knew he regretted many of his actions. But that wouldn’t make him fear Patton himself. Wouldn’t make him afraid to take off his gloves. It hit him then that the last time he’d seen Deceit before his entrance into the videos he hadn’t worn gloves, or long sleeves but that was before-  
Oh. Oh no. He couldn’t remember… he didn’t… but he did, didn’t he? Why else would he run like that, why else would he be so suddenly terrified of Patton.  
“Thomas shouldn’t lie! It’s not right!” Patton yelled, staring down Deceit who stood glaring back. They were ten, little, not understanding fully the power of the mind.  
“How can it never, ever be right? Wouldn’t it get us in more trouble to say we broke something than to say the cat knocked it over? Wouldn’t it hurt friends less if we say we like their friendship bracelet even if we hate it? What’s the point of telling the truth if it just hurts us or someone we care about!?” He’d shouted back, trying to contain his angry tears.  
“Telling the truth is the noble thing to do.” Creativity.  
“But then what? What if they hate us? What if we just shouldn’t say anything?” Virgil, quietly, uneasily.  
“Being afraid of everything doesn’t make sense. There’s no point in speculating these what ifs if they are unlikely to occur.” Logan, and Virgil bit his lip, looking down.  
“Stay out of this, four eyes!” Wrath, stepping in front of Virgil, glaring back at Logan, ready to fight.  
“Morality, come on! Adults lie all the time, how can you say it’s bad to lie?” Deceit countered. Patton folded his arms, eyes hard as diamonds.  
“Because it’s true. It’s just like the story books. They all say it. Being angry and scared and jealous and a liar is bad. We’re the heroes, we’re the good guys, and you…” He’d broken off for a moment, meeting Milo’s eyes. He felt somehow his next words were important, but he didn’t understand yet why, didn’t have the knowledge to comprehend what he was doing. “You’re just the bad guys.”  
“How can say that?! I’m just trying to help! I’m just trying to keep Thomas alive!” Deceit had shouted back, feeling tears welling up.  
“Well you aren’t! You’re a liar! You’re just… just a Monster!”  
He’d screamed. Then things had swirled, and for a moment the world seemed like nothing but shards of a broken mirror, and when it reformed, it was only Creativity, Logic, and Morality, in the same spot as they ever were.  
But four doors no longer existed in the hallway. And far off in the mind there was a darkness swirling, a black void that would come to be known as the dark side. And Patton knew, then, what he’d done, and he’d been so scared but so… oddly relieved, to be free of them.  
But he knew better now, didn’t he? It wasn’t black and white, they weren’t the bad guys, not always, not intentionally. But that’s what he’d made them. What he’d made Milo…no wonder he was afraid. Patton had torn everything he knew apart, had given him scales, to fit his idea of a monster. But… but he’d been wrong.  
He had to find him, had to explain, had to fix things, somehow fix things, and he flew down the hall, to Milo’s door, ready to slam his way in if he wouldn’t open up, but instead he stood dumbfounded, confusion and fear spiking through him.  
Milo’s door was gone. 

Milo crumpled as he reappeared in his room, not bothering to catch himself, letting himself fall to the floor like a rag doll as he held his arms close to his chest, feeling the pinprick wounds that his nails had caused from digging into his skin.  
His hands… his nails were sharp, claws, really, but he filed them down so they weren’t as dangerous. His fingers were covered in dark, nearly black, scales, that turned slowly crimson as they climbed to his elbow, before petering out, patches of scales littering his upper arms and shoulders. The scales on his fingers were hard and ribbed, like those of a lizard. Of a monster.  
That’s what Patton had said, after all, that he was just a monster, just Thomas’s boogey man, out to get him, out to ruin him. And he’d played the part, hadn’t he? He’d played the bad guy, been the villain, the criminal, the monster. It’s just what he was. With a growl, he grabbed a scale, and ripped.  
He gasped as his vision flared white at the pain, the fire that shot through his body, shaking his core, leaving him trembling and gasping. But the thoughts wouldn’t leave, monster monster monster monstermonster.  
“No!” He whispered hoarsely, and he had to, had to, get those voices to stop, just stop, and then he pulled and his mind went numb.


	2. Group Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton goes to Thomas and the other sides for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is very dialogue heavy and trying to write this many characters in one scene was a bit hard, but I really like how it turned out.

“Thomas!” He called, popping into the living room, hoping he wasn’t in the middle of something.   
“Pat? What’s wrong?” He asked, looking up from his laptop, setting it aside as he took in the fear on the side’s face.   
“Deceit, Milo, his door is… is gone!”   
“His door is what?!” Virgil asked, his voice echoing on the last word, popping into place so suddenly it startled both Thomas and Patton.   
“gone. It’s just… not there anymore. He didn’t move it, either, it’s completely gone.”   
“He locked himself away? Why would he do that?” Thomas asked, looking between Patton and Virgil. Patton was on the verge of tears, holding his arms tight around his stomach.   
“He came to visit me in my room. To make sure with all the changes going on, that I was doing ok. Because he knew… knew that I wasn’t as well as I said I was. And I wasn’t saying anything because I don’t, but I really was ok, just getting used to things but the room-“ Virgil cursed, making Patton flinch and Remus and Roman appear instantly, the fact they were together not lost on Thomas.   
“Ohh, are we allowed to swear now? Cause I’ve been inventing new words, since the old ones got boooring.” Remus trilled, and Logan appeared, adjusting his glasses.   
“No, it is not, unless we wish Thomas’s videos to get demonetized and for him to lose his source of livelihood. Patton?” Logan asked, noticing the Side’s state, stepping forwards.   
“So what exactly is going on here, Panic at the Everywhere?” Roman asked, trying to inject some normalcy into the conversation.   
“Milo’s door is gone.” He answered, not looking at Roman, but instead meeting Remus’s eyes. The chaotic side paled, manic expression slipping from his face.   
“He’s not-“ Virgil shook his head.   
“But it can’t be good. You know… you know how he gets. How bad. That’s the only reason, and he did the absolute worst thing he could do, the idiot!” Virgil shouted, sinking to the floor, clutching at his hair.   
“Would someone explain what exactly is going on?” Thomas asked, bewildered, worried.  
“I… don’t know.” Logan answered, slight wonder in his voice at being the one to not know something.   
“He was in Patton’s room. Think of what it’s made of, Thomas. Nostalgia. Memories. Emotions. Do you remember me in there? I was… I was falling apart. And Mi is Patton’s polar opposite, he should have known better than to go inside, especially since-“ Virgil cut off, biting his tongue, sharing another knowing look with Remus.   
“Patton. What exactly happened?” Roman asked, more calmly than he felt.   
“It was… the room was corrupting him. Like when we went to find Virgil in his room, he was changing, all, all the colors draining from him, and I got him out but his gloves tore and I tried to help but then he just… vanished.” The words spilled out of Patton, tears pricking his eyes, remembering just how torn apart Milo looked, how totally hopeless and scared he seemed.   
“It’s my fault. He wouldn’t have been afraid otherwise, it’s my fault.” Patton said softly, not stopping the tears dripping down his cheeks.   
“Pat, that’s not true. He was just upset. You didn’t know your room would have that much influence.” Thomas said, and he shook his head.   
“It is, though, Thomas, it is because it’s my fault there’s a dark side in the first place, just like it’s my fault creativity split, and it’s my fault that Milo was afraid of me and ran!” He shouted, swiping at his face, unable to see through his blurry vision, silence choking the room.   
“What… what are you saying… what do you mean?” Remus, voice sounding so little, and Patton couldn’t hold back a sob.   
“I didn’t know, I didn’t know what I was doing, I didn’t know what I said would change things, I couldn’t stop it, I just was so mad, and so sure, and everyone, everyone was telling Thomas what was good and what wasn’t and I just wanted him to be good and smart and brave and happy and everything else needed to go away, it just needed to stop, and I… I caused the rift! Then later, with… with King, I told him what work was good and what was bad and suddenly… suddenly there were two of you and I didn’t know what I’d done or how to fix it and everything fell apart and if I hadn’t pushed them all out, none of this would have ever happened in the first place!” Patton cried, trembling like a leaf, feeling all at once miserable and light, so impossibly light, now that he’d said it, that he’d admitted what he’d done.   
It was out. It wasn’t a secret anymore. They all knew and they could punish him for it or kick him out or do… do whatever. It didn’t matter. It was his last truth to tell, his last lie he’d been hiding.   
“I called him a monster. And it made him what I thought he was.” He whispered, the last of his ability to care about consequences leaving him numb in the rush of adrenaline that followed. He heard a sharp intake of breath, Virgil, he thought. He could imagine the wide eyed, open mouthed stare Remus and Roman were sharing, the intrigued puzzlement on Logan’s face as he sorted out these new details and the… the disappointment on Thomas’s as he realized what Patton had done.   
“it was so dark. And cold. We didn’t have anything, anything at all. We had to pool together the tiniest amount of power we had left to make the smallest, tiniest thing. Our rooms were like closets, we had one tiny living room, a beat up couch, no influence, no power, we almost faded away into nothing. I was terrified. All of the time.” Virgil’s voice cut through the silence, sharp, and Patton could feel the raw emotion behind it.   
“The only reason we ended up having our own rooms, real rooms, is because Remus showed up, terrified of himself, because he’d hurt Roman so badly and all you’d ever done is told him how he wasn’t good enough, good at all, which is probably what made him lash out in the first place. You put us, put me, through Hell.”   
“Virgil, enough.” Logan.   
“No, not enough! Then when I try and help, try and keep him safe, when I’m playing the bad guy, because that’s all I ever had the option to be if I wanted to stay alive, you still, knowing it was your fault that I was what I was, you still…” Virgil broke off, running a hand through his hair, eyes hurt, voice laced with something deep and mournful.   
“Virgil-“ Thomas, soft, but Virgil took a step towards Patton, anyway.   
“And it hurts, it still hurts, every day I’m still afraid of what if I wake up back there, what if I do something wrong, what if I’m not allowed to stay, what if it all happens again, what if I lose… lose everything… but you know what Patton? It hurts and it sucks and it truly scares me but it isn’t. Your. Fault.” Patton’s heart stopped in his chest, he couldn’t breathe, of everything, everything he’d expected Virgil to say, that was never, never an option.   
“h h h how can y y you say that?” He whispered, “how can you pretend like it isn’t?” He stuttered, and hands pulled him close, and he buried himself against Virgil’s hoodie like his life depended on it, and maybe it did, as he felt Virgil stroking his hair, holding him tight, resting his own head against Patton’s shoulder.   
“Because it isn’t. None of us knew what we were doing. None of us knew what we were capable of. It wasn’t your fault. It’s what everything in the world told you, told Thomas, it was bound to happen. Just because that fight was the tipping point doesn’t make it your fault. Just like their split wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s. Unpredictable things happen when Thomas grows. And you’ve done so much since then, done so much better, since then, at understanding us, at trying with us. We were children. We didn’t know any better. God, we didn’t know anything!” Virgil exclaimed, eliciting a weak chuckle from Patton.   
“It’s ok. It really, really is, Pat. And I know, don’t argue, I know you’ll still blame yourself, but at least acknowledge this.” Virgil pulled back despite Patton’s soft sound of protest, resting his hands on Patton’s shoulders as he looked into the other side’s eyes, determined he read the truth in them, see his sincerity. “I. Forgive. You.” He emphasized every word, every syllable, watching Patton’s eyes rove his face, looking for any sign of untruth, any sign of hate or fear or resentment, collapsing against Virgil when he found none, the two of them sinking to the floor.   
“It’s ok, padre. It’ll be ok.” Roman knelt beside them, embracing them in a tight hug, voice thick with his own tears at Patton’s distress.   
“I know you were just scared. I was… I was just scared too.” Remus, hesitantly standing near the huddle, letting out a noise of surprise when he was pulled into it by Roman, unused to the warmth that filled his belly, the genuine smile that threatened to tear him apart.   
“Logan, you better join the cuddle pile before I send Remus to fetch you!” Roman called out, eliciting a husky “yes please” from Remus, which he was surprised to find made Patton giggle ever so slightly. Logan rolled his eyes but joined anyway, suppressing his own smile as he did so. Lastly, Thomas knelt down, finding Patton in the tangle of limbs that were his Sides, his own self.   
“You’re my Papa Patton, Pat. And nothing changes that.” He said softly but firmly, taking Patton’s hand in his and squeezing it tightly once, seeing Patton let out a long, shaky breath. But his tears had stopped, and he was smiling now, seeming lighter than he had in… well, ever, and Thomas felt something in his belly untwist.   
“Thanks kiddo. I guess… I guess I just gotta work a little extra to make sure all my kiddos feel at home here.” He replied, squeezing back. “and we better start with Milo. Virg? Ree?” Remus blinked. It was the first time Patton was asking him for input, the first time he’d called him by his nickname, and it left him a bit flustered, as they all untangled themselves, sitting in a circle on the floor. He looked at Virgil.   
“You know it better than I do, Stormcloud. You were the man with a plan. I was just the distraction.”   
“Distraction?” Roman asked, sharing a confused look with Logan, Thomas’s gaze glancing between the two sides intently.   
“yeah. He was… in charge, pretty much, but only because no one else had enough power or, in Remus’s case, focus, to take him down.”   
“Hey, I coulda! It’s just more fun without pesky responsibilities! Besides, he always gave me such fun chores!” Virgil rolled his eyes.   
“Right. So showing weakness made you a target, especially him, since, y’know, leader. So Remus was the distraction when Milo was going through episodes. Keeping everybody else too busy dealing with him and his… himness, to worry about why they hadn’t seen Milo in a few days, why he wasn’t reining them in.” Virgil took a breath, pushing his bangs back out of his face. “And it allowed Remus to get a good bit of energy out, in a constructive way.” Virgil added, rolling his eyes at the happy nostalgic look on Remus’s face, before continuing.  
“He’s a lot like… like you, Pat. He doesn’t like to admit when he’s not ok. He buries it all deep inside until it can’t be pushed down anymore and then it swallows him. And it was harder, then, because showing anything, anytime, was an invitation to attack, so he couldn’t let his guard down, except when he was in his room. Except he can be a lot more destructive than you Pat, a lot… lot more self destructive. I would talk to him through the door, count out breaths, say anything, until he let me in or I had enough power to force my way in or he was weak enough he couldn’t stop me, then I’d take care of… of whatever, whatever had happened, whatever he’d done, and I’d stay until he put himself back together again, then it would start all over. He hadn’t… I thought he was doing better, I thought not having to worry about the others meant he wasn’t going down this rabbit hole again, but he’s so damn good at hiding it.” Virgil finished, frustration in his voice.   
“He… Virgil, does he… hurt himself?” Thomas asked, voice kind and worried and sympathetic. Virgil nodded.   
“Sometimes. Not every time, but often enough I was never surprised at the cuts. None of us have healing like you guys do. I did my best but it never was fast, or easy, especially when half of the time he didn’t want my help to start with.”   
“No wonder… the room heightened your anxiety, Virgil, but it heightened his depression.” Logan said, understanding rushing across his face.  
“He hides it but he… hates himself. That’s why he does it, he thinks he deserves the pain, it gets his mind to shut up and it numbs him until he can’t feel and it’s not a solution but it’s better, at the moment, it’s better to feel the pain than the loathing.” Remus replied, fiddling with his sash, clearly talking from experience, feeling his brother’s eyes on him, knowing this would come up later.  
“this still leads to the issue of his door. Clearly, Thomas isn’t feeling the effects of Milo ducking out, per se,” He was interrupted by Patton’s quiet quack, unable to suppress the twitch of his lips. “therefore, he is simply attempting to fully isolate himself from any of us. Based on the information we’ve gathered, likely because he doesn’t desire help, and feels he deserves his isolation. That leaves the question, how do we get to him?” Logan asked, gaze sweeping over the others, watching the gears turn in all of their minds.   
“we… can’t. he won’t let us in, we can’t. Not by ourselves, anyway.” Virgil said, worrying at his lip, looking hesitantly at Thomas.   
“oh. Ooohhh. Patton breathed, hopeful eyes turning to Thomas as well.   
“Virgil is… correct. It is your mind, Thomas. Therefore, wherever you want to go, you are able to. I suppose the question is, do you really, truly want to enter Deceit’s realm?”   
“It’s really not as foreboding as they make it sound, no blood or guts or torture chambers anywhere!” Remus chimed in, encouragingly.   
“pft, please, I’ve almost fallen into at least three bottomless pits in that place. And his room likes me.” Virgil replied, and Remus gasped in mock offense, a gesture so identical to Roman’s it startled Thomas.   
“Are you implying that DeeDee doesn’t like me?”   
“I’m saying he’d rather you not wreck his shit, which you do whenever you go in there.” Virgil replied, raising an eyebrow. Remus pouted.   
“Oh come on! What are vases even for then? There could be rupees inside!”   
“I’m sorry, did you just make a Zelda reference?” Thomas asked, and Remus waggled his eyebrows.   
“Maaaybe. I am part of creativity, y’know, an open world fantastical video game? No waaay I’d eeever be interested in thaaat.” Remus drawled sarcastically. Logan cleared his throat.   
“To get back to the main goal here. Thomas, you need to think about Deceit. Focus on his traits, the things he embodies. Imagine being surrounded by them, imagine being in the mindscape, imagine finding his room in the house of your mind. Imagine entering, nothing is in your way, nothing is stopping you, you can go wherever you like.”   
Thomas closed his eyes and breathed, listening to Logan’s voice, letting himself fade out, focus on only the lies he told, to friends, family, himself. To when he’d lied to spare someone’s feelings, when he’d lied for selfish reasons, when he’d lied without thinking he was even doing it, when he’d surprised someone with something, all the times and places and people and reasons to use deception. All the times it had kept him safe.  
“You’re the boss, Thomas. Whatever you want to know, you can know.” An echo of Virgil’s words, the first time he’d ever met Deceit. He felt a shift, ever so slight, and he let out a final deep breath, opening his eyes.


	3. You Will be Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas ventures to Deceit's room to recover the side, and reconvenes with everyone.

It was… a room. Four plain, unfinished wood walls and a floor, he could feel splinters poking at him from beneath his pants. There was almost no light in the room, it was just bright enough to make out the bare, almost completely empty space.   
“Guys?” He called out.   
“God I will never get used to that.” Virgil groaned from behind him, fighting back the nausea that welled in his throat. “That sinking thing… that’s just the worst.” Thomas turned, looking behind him.   
Virgil was there. But…  
“Where’s everyone else?” He asked, getting to his feet. Virgil’s gaze swept the room, uncertainty sweeping across his face.   
“I don’t know. If you were trying to take all of us, that’s a lot of focus. I’m the one he has the most attachment to, makes sense I’d be the one to get through.” Virgil guessed, looking around with a frown. “This… this isn’t Milo’s room. It can’ be.” He muttered, looking at the rough walls, no door, no meandering shifting hallways, no couch and kitchen that he’d spent so, so much time in. But it was, he could feel it in his gut, that familiar tug of Milo’s space.   
“Did I do something wrong? I followed Logan’s instructions. What if we can’t get back?” Thomas asked, a tinge of fear coloring his voice.   
“I thought I was supposed to be the panicking one. If you got us in here, you can get us out, that direction is easier, anyway, since you’re more comfortable with that area of the mind palace than… here.” Virgil replied, distractedly, uneasiness growing in his own stomach.   
He heard the tiniest of sounds, the smallest of movement, from a shadowed corner of the room, and his head whipped in that direction. He summoned a plasma like flame to his hand, the center flickering gold, the outer flame violet. It sputtered out at Thomas’s gasp.   
“What?” Virgil asked, suddenly self conscious. Thomas blushed, rubbing the back of his neck.   
“Nothing! Sorry! I’ve just never seen any of you really… use your mind magic thingy before?” His voice ended in a squeak, and Virgil rolled his eyes, half smile on his face.   
“Well, you should ask for a demonstration sometime. God knows Roman will take you up on your offer.” Thomas hesitated a moment.   
“Would you?” He asked, and Virgil froze, a wave of strange uncertainty shooting through him. Thomas wanted to see his powers? His inky shadows, his crackling lightning, his golden threads, his thunderous voice… no, it would only scare him, it wasn’t worth it, showing how much power he had, how dangerous it was, he was.   
“Sometime… maybe. If you’re… sure.” He replied, trying to force lightness into his voice, pushing away his own doubt as he once again summoned his light, stepping gingerly towards the corner.   
“Mi? That you?” He asked, voice barely trembling, then his light illuminated the corner and just as suddenly went out. 

Nothing nothing nothing, he was nothing, he felt nothing, he wasn’t needed, he just fucked everything up, and it hurt hurt hurt, but now he was numb, and that was so much better and so much worse. His mind stalled and he felt wetness trickling down his fingers, but the voices, the words, the memories, they were gone and that’s what mattered because he couldn’t stand it anymore. Nothing, nothing, he was nothing, it was better that way.   
“Dee… gods, Dee, what… please… answer!” half heard words filtered through his fuzzy mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to listen. He didn’t want to hear the words, he didn’t want to listen anymore, he’d just gotten rid of them, and he curled deeper into himself.   
“No, Milo, don’t!” Virgil cried, voice panicked. He felt the room shift, heard Thomas yelp behind him as the wood of the floor started to rot, cracks running through the walls.  
“what’s happening?” Thomas asked, looking around wide eyed.   
“I don’t… how is he doing this?! Milo, you idiot, please!” He could feel the fear rising in him, threatening to swallow him, then there was a grounding hand on his shoulder.   
“Breathe, Virg. We can figure this out, but we need to stay calm.” Virgil nodded, those words were pure Logan and it steadied him as he tried to reach out to Milo, but he shrunk back further, and the room shook.   
“He’s… he’s convinced himself you don’t need him. He’s erasing himself from the mindscape, he’s… he’s killing himself.” Virgil said softly, eyes locked on Milo’s too small form. He could see the crimson dripping from his fingers, and bit his lip at the state of his arms, his hands, at the complete lack of color in any aspect of the Side, his brilliant yellow now barely a tint, the black faded to white.   
“Milo. C’mon, bud, I need you. I… I care, I… this isn’t the answer. Please.” Thomas spoke calmly, but the worry in his voice was sincere, the slap of Virgil’s words making him pale. It was true, he needed Deceit, he cared about him, had grown to like him, appreciate him, accept him, and he channeled all of it, all of it as he reached out once more.   
The room shook harder, and Virgil had to cling to the wall to stay upright through the earthquake, pieces of plaster falling from the ceiling, which was now threatening to collapse.   
“We need to go. We need to take him and go. If I’m in here when this place falls apart, well, that’s one thing. You’d be able to manage. But you can’t be, you’ll get buried in your own mind, lost in the unconscious. we need to go.” Virgil’s voice shook Thomas out of his focus.   
“How?” He asked, and Virgil quirked his lip in a half smile.   
“The same way we got in here, genius. Take us home.” Virgil answered, one hand grabbing tight to Milo’s shoulder, the other squeezing Thomas’s hand. He felt Thomas take a breath, then the world crumbled under them and they were falling, falling, falling…   
“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Was the screech that pierced through Virgil’s mind as he groaned, blinking open his eyes. Another room. He recognized the heraldry hanging on the wall, and breathed a sigh of relief. Wow, it was strange to be relieved at being in this room. Out, they were out, they-   
“Thomas!” Virgil cried, stumbling to his feet.   
“I’m ok… Just a bit bruised, I think.” Virgil whipped around. Thomas was on the floor, uncurling himself from around Milo, whom he’d clearly attempted to shield from their rough landing.   
“oh… oh fucking Christ…” Remus breathed, taking in the state of the three of them, but Dee, especially Dee…   
“Where are we?” Thomas asked, looking around.   
“Uh, welcome to the imagination, of course!” Remus exclaimed, but his face was drawn, lacked the usual excitement he would feel at Thomas being here. The pride of him seeing his imagination before Roman’s.  
“It looks like a bedroom.” Thomas replied, and Remus scoffed.   
“Right now, maybe. I can make it be anything I want! Whole kingdoms to raze to the ground! Atomic bombs to drop, nuclear radiation to watch seep across the ground, mutating and shifting-“ He broke off as Virgil cleared his throat.   
“Ok, fine, I’ll cut short the welcome speech. Also, WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?” Remus screeched again, making Virgil wince, snapping his finger next to his ear to make sure he hadn’t gone deaf.  
“We… fell through Milo’s room when it… crumbled. Thomas was trying to get us back, but I guess this was the closest space. It’s better than the abyss. Or… one of the others…” Virgil said, shuddering at the thought of landing in Despair’s room instead, pushing away the rush of fear at that thought. “His room is gone. He nearly went with it. He wanted to go with it.” Virgil finished softly, kneeling down before Thomas, who had laid Milo down, his head resting in Thomas’s lap.   
His arms were torn to shreds, red, raw flesh exposed, deep gashes ripped into his skin, red the only color smeared across his too white clothing. He was breathing steadily, but the rhythm was too slow, like someone in a deep, deep, sleep, and he was completely still, freezing cold, not good when paired with his reptile like nature.   
“His scales, Ree, he ripped off his scales…” Virgil whispered, feeling lightheaded himself, as he took in the carnage of his hands, his fingers, slick and dark and crimson, not at all the right color, not at all right. His stomach twisted into knots, and he felt sick, at the sight of Milo like this. At the pure pain he must be feeling, had been feeling as he did it, but kept going anyway because he was so hopeless.  
“L-Logan. We need Logan. Ree-“   
“Living room. I’ll carry him, I… let’s go.” Carefully, more gently than Thomas had known Remus was capable of, the Side scooped up Milo, cradling him like he was a glass vase, softness in his eyes.   
“We’ll be right behind you.” Virgil said, exchanging a glance with Remus, who nodded, hurrying away. Virgil turned to Thomas, helping pull him up.   
“Are you ok? That was… a pretty rough ride. I know it can be jarring, going from the light side to… to here. Especially since you’ve never really been here.” Virgil said.   
“I am. Really!” He protested at Virgil’s dubious look. “I am, Virg. I’m more worried about Deceit. Why didn’t it work? I told him… it worked with you.”   
“He didn’t… he either couldn’t hear or he didn’t believe you. Or you didn’t believe yourself. Or something else is holding him back, I don’t know, he’s never been this way before, he’s never…” Virgil trailed off, pressing his hands to his eyes for long moment, before letting out a broken breath. “I don’t know, Thomas, he’s never gone this far before, I don’t know how to help him this time.”   
“Hey. We’ll figure it out, ok? We won’t lose him, we won’t let that happen. I won’t.” Thomas said, determination in his voice, and Virgil believed him. He let out a breath.   
“Ok. Ok, we should get back. Can you?” Virgil asked, and he felt Thomas slip a hand into his.   
“It’ll be a lot easier now that the floor isn’t literally falling out from under me.” A small smile flitted across Virgil’s face. A moment of swirling colors and brightness, then he stumbled into place on the steps, clinging onto the stairs railing, a cacophony of voices and questions flying back and forth across the room.   
When it got this loud, usually Milo would use his power, silence all of them, so that Thomas could get room to speak, so that they all had a moment to cool off and calm their thoughts. Usually he would be standing next to Virgil on the stairs, making sure he didn’t get too overwhelmed, usually he was here, and not laid on the couch, Logan standing over him, eyes squeezed tight in focus as he tried to heal. With a frustrated sound, he pulled back.  
“Teach?” Roman asked, and Logan adjusted his glasses, stepping forwards once again. His light was brighter than Virgil had ever seen, his eyes blazing with it.   
“Just. Take. It.” He ground out, gasping and stumbling backwards, caught by Roman, who kept him from falling to the floor.   
“I don’t understand. Why will he not allow me to heal him? His injuries are obviously painful and detrimental to both his physical and mental wellbeing. I am offering him means of relief, he shouldn’t be resisting it!” Logan said, voice laced with frustration.   
“Dee stop being a moron! We’re trying to help, you big stupid idiot, just take the help for once in your goddamn life!” Remus, voice angry because of the fear flooding through him.   
“Maybe in his room-“   
“His room is gone.” Virgil cut off Logan, and though his voice was soft, everyone’s gaze locked onto him and Thomas, standing on the stairway. Patton let out a gasp, rushing over and hugging both of them tightly for a long moment, fussing over them before Virgil halfheartedly pushed his hands away.   
“We’re alright, Pat. But he… isn’t.”  
“Without a room, a side will not be able to survive. They will slowly fade away. Not having a room, or the will to create one, is not nearly ideal.” Logan stated, eyes flicking to Virgil.   
Virgil ignored his pointed look as he walked across the room, sitting on the couch, cradling Milo against his chest. He didn’t know what he was doing, going to do, but he had to do something. And he could feel the power in him, calling out to Milo, trying to reach him, so he followed it, followed his instincts. Before the others could ask what he was doing, he closed his eyes and leapt.   
Into himself, into his core, into his power. But instead of his two toned power, he only called to the golden, shoving the violet deep inside, pushing it back until he could feel the smooth gold, like honey and cinnamon in his throat. The feeling of rare sunny days in the gloom, of sunspots through cloud cover, of warmth and light.  
“Have you ever felt like… nobody was there? Have you ever felt forgotten, in the middle of nowhere? Have you ever felt like you could… disappear? Like you could fall. And no one would hear.” The song fell like raindrops from his lips, the words flowing through the air, sparkling like stars, flickering throughout the room as fireflies before settling on Milo’s skin. Virgil didn’t know where it was coming from, this melody, but he knew, knew this would get through to him, it had to get through to him, and he lifted his voice higher, held Milo closer.   
“Well. Let that lonely feeling wash away. Maybe there’s a reason to believe you’ll be ok. And when you don’t feel strong enough to stand. You can reach, reach out your hand.” His voice trembled, close to breaking, but he wouldn’t let it, wouldn’t lose this spell he was weaving, somehow, somehow, with the power Milo had given him, feeling it resonate, feeling something, small and broken and fragile, flickering inside Mi, trying, trying, trying to hear. He wove his words into that strand, strengthening it, turning the fragile string Milo was holding onto into a tapestry of memories.  
“And oooh, someone will come running and I know… they’ll take you home.” He remembered sleepovers at Mi’s, when he was too terrified of the world to be alone, Milo laughing, judging Mi’s impressions of the others, his smile, his real smile, his excitement and protectiveness and love.   
“even when the dark comes crashing through. When you need a friend to carry you. When you’re broken on the ground,” his breath caught, “you will be found. So let the sun come streaming in. Cause you’ll reach up and you’ll rise again. If you only look around. You will be found.” He felt tears dripping down his cheeks, and pressed his forehead to Milo’s, trying to feel him, trying to get him to listen.   
“you will be found.” He whispered, opening his eyes. The lights sparkled on Milo’s arms, a thousand thousand fireflies rustling and settling their wings into place, replaying a thousand thousand memories. As he watched, they shifted, into shining, golden scales, melding back into his skin as if they had never been torn away. He could see flickers of light from the corners of his eyes, projections of his memories, of Mi’s memories, as the echo of his voice faded gradually from the room. Through his bangs he saw blanket forts, saw Mi counting in and out with him, the two of them staying up till dawn watching Disney movies, debating the lessons they taught, watching all the lesser known, darker films, laughing, smiling, happiness.   
“luca?”   
“Milo. There you are. There you are Mi. it’s me, it’s alright, it’s me.” Virgil whispered, smile cracking across his face as he brushed back Milo’s hair, tears slipping down his face.   
“I’m sorry!” Patton was there, suddenly, hugging the two of them so tight they could barely breath, couldn’t see anything but his cat hoodie. “I didn’t mean what I said, you’re not bad or evil or a… a monster, you’re important and smart and kind and just… just trying to do what’s best, just like the rest of us. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Patton’s voice trailed away into a whisper, as he met Milo’s befuddled eyes with his own remorse filled ones. “I didn’t know it hurt you so badly. I didn’t know I… did this. I’m sorry.” He repeated again, as Milo’s eyes drifted shut.   
“Thomas needs you. I… need you. I love you, kiddo.” Then he was out again, but Patton noticed a hint of color seeping back into his clothes, into his face, and let out a breath of relief.   
“Virgil… that was…” Roman trailed off, and Virgil felt his face burn, imagining all the things they’d just seen, all of his private memories playing out in front of everyone like a silent film. It was almost his worst nightmare.  
“I know music is more your department Roman.” Virgil muttered back, bangs falling over his face.   
“No, I wasn’t… I was going to say that was amazing, actually. It was… it was more magical than the northern lights.” Roman replied, voice slightly awed, Virgil’s face only burning worse.  
“Thomas did say he wanted to see my, what was your phrasing, mind magic thingy?” Virgil replied, teasingly, though he didn’t look up.   
“You Will Be Found. Dear Evan Hansen.” Remus said, and Virgil could hear the smile in his voice.   
“Is there significance to this… song?” Logan asked.   
“It’s his-“   
“My-“   
“our-“   
“Favorite.” Four pairs of eyes met, green, orange, blue, and mismatched, lost in a moment of quiet understanding.   
“I just… I just focused on my power, on… on his, I don’t know why, how, that worked. Healed him.” Virgil said softly, running his hands over Milo’s scales, smooth and warm. They were different, too.   
Instead of that deep black, they were a soft golden hue, that reflected and shone in the light. They were softer too, not ridged and rough like they had been, more like thin metal than lizard scales. They were beautiful.   
“It’s because it’s what he needed to hear. What he needed to be able to believe. You were the hand that reached out. You showed him he wasn’t alone.” Logan answered, making Virgil bite his lip in thought, reddening again at the memory display.  
“Is that why he always wears gloves?” Thomas asked curiously, looking at Milo’s hands, his sleeves pushed up to the elbow to reveal the extent of the scaling. The side leaned against him with a sigh, letting some of the worry fade from his shoulders.   
“He didn’t want to scare you, more than he already did. Didn’t want to give you more reason to believe he was the villain. That… that he was the monster you thought he was. But you aren’t, anymore. That’s why his scales changed. Because you changed, Thomas.” Virgil replied softly, watching as Thomas hesitantly, almost wonderingly, reached out a hand, taking Milo’s in his.   
“I’m not afraid of him. I’m not really afraid of any of you, anymore. Knowing you, Virg, getting to know him, and you, Remus,” His eyes met Remus’s for a moment, and the Side looked away. Almost unconsciously Roman reached out and squeezed his twin’s hand, smiling at him. “none of you are black and white. You’ve never been anything but that. You’re all just… trying your best to do what’s best for me. And even if I don’t agree with you, or you don’t agree with each other, that doesn’t mean your ideas are wrong, or bad, it just makes them different. And I know you try, you all do, so hard, and that’s all I can ever ask of you. It’s all I can ever ask of myself.”   
He looked around the room. Logan was looking at him, the hint of a smile on his face, pride in his eyes that made Thomas grin. Roman had an arm wrapped around Remus’s shoulders, heads touching as they leaned against each other, looking more… whole than Thomas had ever seen them. Patton was smiling, warmth in his eyes as he sat down on the other side of Thomas, giving him a quick hug.   
“I’m proud of you, kiddo.” He whispered.   
“I’m proud of you too, Pat. For telling me everything you told us today. I know it wasn’t easy. But I’m glad you did.” Patton nodded, wiping at his eyes, but he was smiling too, a genuine smile. Finally, his eyes found Virgil, who was leaning against him, looking as if he’d been punched in the gut, that wide eyed surprise on his face that he only got when he learned something new.  
“Virg?” Virgil shook his head, familiar half smile flitting across his face.   
“I… just…thank you, Thomas.” He said, voice barely audible.   
“Of course, Virg. And… I don’t know if you can hear me, Milo. But I mean it. I need you. And I care about you, I really, really do, and I know everyone else here does too. You are important. You matter. And I… I’d be lost without you.” He watched as color swept back into Milo, the vibrant yellow of his shirt, the deep black of his cloak, and his breathing seemed to steady out, coming at a more normal rate.   
“I don’t understand. Why did it work that time? I tried doing that in his room, it didn’t work then…”   
“Because you believed it this time, Thomas. You made it true.” Remus answered, practically glowing with happiness, before twirling Roman around once, dipping him giddily, to the other side’s laughter.   
“I’m going to kill him. When he wakes up, I’m going to kill him for this, I swear to god…” Virgil muttered, sagging back against the couch, against Thomas, releasing all the fear and stress and pain he’d had bottled up inside, feeling endlessly tired.   
“Would that not be the opposite of what we have spent the majority of the day trying to prevent?” Logan asked, and Virgil rolled his eyes.   
“He’s just exaggerating Teach, he just means Milo is in for the scolding of a lifetime!” Roman answered, having twisted out of Remus’s reach, now holding him playfully in a choke hold as he noogyed his head.   
“Ah. I see.” Logan replied, adjusting his glasses, coming to sit on the couch on the other side of Virgil, looking Deceit over for any remaining traces of injury.  
“We’ll have to rebuild his room, sooner rather than later. It’s the best place for him to get the rest he needs.” Logan commented, satisfied that he was physically stable.   
“Ugh I haven’t had to do that in foreeever. It’s so much wooork.” Virgil groaned. A loud crash made everyone on the couch but Logan jump in their seats, turning to look at the two sheepish creativities standing in the kitchen.   
Remus was standing on the counter, morning star grasped in one hand, now hanging at his side, Roman in a similar position on the ground before him, a shattered vase on the floor beside them.   
“He did it!” They yelled simultaneously, each pointing at the other, before devolving into a fit of laughter, Remus losing his footing and slipping, his landing softened by Roman, who tried to catch him before falling over himself, leaving them both entangled on the floor, Remus cackling, Roman laughing.   
“What have we said about dueling in the living room?” Patton scolded lightly, unable to hide the smile playing across his face.   
“That we shouldn’t because we could break something, and if we’re going to duel that’s fine, just don’t play too rough or at least get Logan if you do play too rough and HEY REMUS STOP TRYING TO EAT THAT!” Roman yelled, tackling his brother and the two of them vanished behind the kitchen counter, their arguing still audible.   
“But it’s crunchy!”   
“It’s CERAMIC! If you want crunchy eat a bag of chips or something!”   
“Ohhh, good idea. I like the crinkling noise the plastic makes as it goes down my esophagus.”   
“YOU DON’T EAT THE BAG!”   
“MAYBE YOU DON’T!”   
Virgil snorted, surprised to find real laughter escaping his lips, something rare enough that it almost made him stop. But he didn’t, laughing harder at the noises coming from behind the counter as the twins continued to tussle.   
“Wow, those two really are clueless morons.” Virgil commented, yawning happily.   
“But you love them.” Patton replied, teasingly.   
“Obviously.” Virgil blew his bangs out of his face, looking up at Thomas.   
“I get the feeling you’re gonna have a surplus of ideas for the rest of the day.”   
“What an astute observation, Virgil.” Logan answered dryly, joking in his own way.   
“Well. I’m just glad you’re all ok. And… happy.” Thomas said, feeling better than he had in weeks. He realized this was the first time that all his main sides had worked together to accomplish something.   
“Maybe you can help us put together his room, when he wants to make another one. Or when I force him to make another one, the second he’s well enough to.” Virgil offered. “I’m gonna miss the old one though. Spent hours at a time in there.”   
“Virgil, we spent a day in Milo’s room and encountered a twisted hall of mirrors, an ethereal plane made of shadow monsters trying to destroy us and a maze of hallways that led in circles. What exactly could you have spent hours in there doing?” Logan asked, a bit incredulously.   
“Well… I mean, you… saw.” Virgil gestured helplessly, a thousand memories flitting through his head. “A lot of the time was in the main room, but wandering was fun. The room liked me, so I usually wasn’t in too much danger of getting hurt or anything. It did have a bit of a trickster streak, dropping me in pits and pools and stuff, but it’s Mi’s room, what do you expect? And he was always keeping an eye on me, in case anything like that happened anyway.”   
“If we hadn’t been afraid, I think it coulda been fun! Like a giant corn maze!” Patton replied, “We should make a giant corn maze for Halloween this year! Oh, it could be YouTube themed, and you could have Joan and Talyn and everyone dress up and scare people!”   
“Hey! I thought scary gory stuff was my department! What’s going on over there!” Remus’s head popped up from behind the counter, his hair disheveled and clothing wrinkled, sash out of place.   
“If we’re brainstorming, I’m in charge!” Roman appeared, not in much better state.   
“What!? Why? You heard Patton, Halloween! That’s like, the one time of year I get to be the one in charge!”   
“Fiiine, but nothing traumatizing, ok? Fun scary, not this will haunt me until the day I die, scary.” Roman relented.   
“Booo, you’re no fun!” Remus stuck his tongue out, vaulting over the counter and plopping on the couch next to Patton, who smiled hesitantly at Remus, not moving away.   
“Halloween is months away. Should we not be focused on more pressing upcoming projects that are actually important to Thomas’s career, instead of planning out an elaborate maze that we all know is never going to actually get built?” Logan asked, adjusting his glasses.   
“We’ll do that laaaater, Teach, let us have some fun first!” Roman groaned, pulling a dvd out of his pocket.   
“Now, who’s ready to watch the most wholesome Disney movie ever?”   
“Winnie the Pooh?” Patton guessed.   
“The black cauldron?” Virgil and Remus asked in tandem, Remus giggling and Virgil rolling his eyes.   
“Mulan?” Logan asked, he appreciated her battle strategy.   
“All incorrect! And I said wholesome, you two!” He jokingly scolded, flipping the case over to reveal The Aristocats, before slipping it into the dvd player and settling on the couch himself. “I mean, come on, singing kittens? And the butler tries to murder them, so there’s even something for Remus to enjoy!” He said, turning up the volume a bit.   
“I suppose a movie night is not a bad plan of action. We could all use a destress after the day this has turned out to be.” Logan mused, settling back onto the couch.


	4. Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deceit wakes up.

Milo shifted, squinting as he tried to open his eyes, the light filtering in through his lids seemingly far, far too bright. And he felt so heavy, so tired, still. He took in a long breath, managing to pry his eyes open.   
The first thing he realized was he wasn’t in his room. The second was that his scales were uncovered. The third was soft breathing coming from either side of him, sandwiched between two bodies, tucked in with blankets.  
“Oh praise Zeus, the snake has awoken!” Roman’s voice came from the hallway entry way, startling the sleeping forms next to him.   
“What? Roman, why are you shouting?” Virgil’s groggy voice rang out.   
“Brooooo its noon o clock, some of us are trying to sleeeeep.” Remus whined from his other side.   
“Well, you told me to wake you up, if he woke up.” Roman shrugged, gesturing to Milo, making the two other sides gasp, jumping forwards.   
“Dee! You’re awake!” Then he was being squeezed tight by Remus, so tight he could barely breathe. He turned, to look at Virgil, who was slumped against the couch, relief clear on his face. It was obvious he hadn’t slept well, the black below his eyes was darker and thicker than usual, his face paler in contrast, his hair more unruly than usual. As he watched, Virgil’s expression changed, shifting to something unreadable.   
“Virg?” He tried reaching out, but Virgil pulled back, getting stiffly to his feet.   
“I’m going to help in the kitchen.” He turned and abruptly walked away, passing Logan, who was peeking through the doorway at the noise.   
“ah, good. I hoped that’s what the commotion was about. It’s good to see you awake, Milo. Patton is currently preparing breakfast, if you’re feeling well enough for some food. It would help your recovery if you were able to get some calorie intake.” Milo blinked, his still half asleep brain taking a moment to comprehend Logan’s analytical language.   
“I think I could manage, yes. I’m sure it would help relieve Patton as well. How much has he been baking?” Milo asked, aware of the fatherly side’s tendency to endlessly bake when very stressed. Logan sighed.   
“An unhealthy amount, to put it lightly.”   
“Mi, it’s sooo good! Like, it’s chocolate and sweet and sugary and some of it just melts on your tongue like it’s magic! I’m the official taste tester.” Remus rambled proudly.   
“Yes, Remus has been quite… helpful in his intake of Patton’s sweets.”   
“Yeah, the trash panda over here is pretty much a bottomless pit. He’s also able to ingest pretty much anything. None of us are very good cooks, though. Suppose you’ve never got a taste of sweets before.” Milo commented absently, gazing after Virgil.  
“He’s been worried sick about you all week. He’s hardly slept, really, no matter how much we tried to tell him you’d be alright.” Roman said, following Milo’s gaze.   
“A week?!” Was all Milo could stammer out.   
“I imagine nearly discorporating yourself does quite a number on you. Not to mention your arms… Virgil managed those, but still.”   
Milo had his arms tucked tight against him, almost unconsciously hiding them from view as much as possible. He was considering revealing them now, they’d all seen, they must have. Of course, that’s when Thomas chose to appear, startling Mi so badly he jumped, shoving his arms once again into his sleeves as far as they would go, hands buried under the blankets.  
“Hey guys. How’s it goin?” He asked with a stretch, clearly having woken up not that long ago.   
“Our favorite patient has awoken! I’ll leave you to it.” Roman replied, grabbing Remus and pulling him into the kitchen, much to his dismay. Logan too vanished back inside, and soon it was just Milo, studiously avoiding Thomas’s gaze.  
“Hey. How you doing?” He asked, sitting on the couch a cushion away from Milo, giving him space. Milo’s hands curled tighter in his sleeves.   
“I’m feeling perfectly fine. I’m sorry if I caused you any concern, but things were completely under control.” The lies flowed out of his mouth so easily, he nearly lost his poker face.   
“If? Of course you caused me concern, Milo.” He winced ever so slightly then, cursing the slip in his language.   
“Regardless, I am alright, and you needn’t spend any more time worrying about me.” He was almost proud of himself, for keeping the tremble out of his voice. Internally he was begging Thomas to go, just go, and gods, where were his gloves? Don’t let him see without his gloves-   
“You’re not. I… they explained what happens when a side doesn’t have a room. When a room is destroyed with someone in it… and your scales…” Milo internalized his fear, so he knew then, he’d seen them and he knew and he was talking but he couldn’t hear it over the blood rushing through his ears.   
So he was off guard enough that when Thomas gently pulled his arm, he didn’t think at first, forgetting to pull away before his hand was revealed, until it was too late and it was in the light and they’d all see and-   
His breath caught, eyes widened. They were… different. They shimmered with radiance, in the light, reflective rose gold delicately encircling his fingers, up his arms, his nails no longer claws, the scales no longer leathery and ridged, rather smooth and refined and… beautiful. He ran his fingers over them, wonderingly, not understanding how this had happened, why… his eyes met Thomas’s. He didn’t say anything, the words caught on the lump in his throat as he closed his eyes, tears silently flowing.   
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, I wasn’t thinking, I was over thinking. It gets so loud sometimes, and I don’t know what the lies are anymore, and I just needed it to stop.”   
“you’re not a monster.” He froze, eyes snapping open at Thomas’s soft words, mouth forming a silent O. “You aren’t. I don’t care about your scales, Mi, if I’m being honest,” he smiled smally, “I think they’re pretty cool. You’re not going to scare me away. I’m not going to start hating you again because of how you look. We’ve come too far for that. And none of us are ever giving up on you.”   
“they changed. You… changed them. You… you mean it now. You never did before that’s why they were like that and I didn’t want to give you another reason to think of me as nothing but the villain. Even if that’s the only way I could get you to listen.” He was absently tracing the outline of his scales, his new scales, loving the smoothness of them.   
“Well. It took quite a bit of doing to get you to listen this time. You wouldn’t let Logan heal you. That was all Virgil. Something to do with me accepting you fully, him having some of your power, kinda, Logan tried to explain but it’s all pretty complicated. We’re all just glad you pulled through.”   
“Virgil? Did this?” His eyes once again flicked to the kitchen entryway, remembering the almost cold mask that had slipped onto Virgil’s face.   
“Yeah. It was… well, it was amazing. Even Roman was speechless. You really scared him. Scared all of us. You can’t do that again, Milo, I need you to promise me.”   
“I won’t, I swear, I’m sorry.” He whispered. Thomas sighed, Milo once again losing his breath as Thomas pulled him into a hug.   
“It’s ok, Mi. I’m not asking cause I’m mad, I’m not. Like, at all. I’m not asking because I need you, which I do. I’m asking because I care, because we all care, and I’m asking you to remember that the next time you feel like you might hurt yourself, or you think that no one cares, or I don’t take your suggestion, I’m asking you to please, come talk to me instead, talk to someone, but don’t, don’t for a moment think I don’t want you. Think they, don’t want you. Cause they do. I do.” Thomas said softly, feeling Deceit’s tightness slowly fade away, the tension fading from his body as he leaned into the touch.   
He could sense lies, any lie, from any side, from Thomas. This wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t lying, not to himself, not to Milo, he cared and he meant it, he wasn’t afraid and he meant it, he was needed and he meant it.   
“I’m sorry.” He whispered again, the only words he seemed able to summon.   
“I know. It’s alright. It’ll be alright. Now, should we go get some breakfast? Patton’s making pancakes, and I convinced Logan that chocolate chips and whipped cream are acceptable toppings.” That made Milo chuckle, and he felt lighter already, a bit light headed from all the truths being spoken, but it felt… good.   
“You’ve never had a meal with Remus, have you?” Milo asked, stifling laughter. Thomas raised an eyebrow.   
“Noooo… should I be concerned?” He asked.   
“Oh, definitely. You should be terrified.” He replied, getting to his feet, only a hint of heavy lethargy left in his limbs. “Wait until you see what he considers toppings. My guess is… peanut butter, crunched up chips, and sardines, or maybe pickles.” He listed.   
“Y’know, I was kinda on board until that last ingredient.” Thomas answered, laughter in his own voice as they headed into the kitchen together, just in time to see Remus stuff an entire pancake in his mouth, being scolded lightly by Patton for manners as they all took their seats.  
It was pleasant. There was a lightness in the air, an atmosphere of relief and happiness and togetherness, that Milo wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. He was quiet, taking in the banter, laughing at something Remus said, smiling as the twins lightly bickered, enjoying just being. His eyes found Virgil, who’s gaze quickly flicked away from Milo, that strange look coming back on his face, and Milo frowned, tapping his plate with his fork thoughtfully. For the rest of the meal, Virgil studiously avoided looking at him, barely saying a word himself, barely touching his food.  
Afterwards, they all were all lounging in the kitchen. Thomas had left, having to get ready for the day. Roman was washing dishes, Logan drying. To his surprise, Patton and Remus were sitting across from each other, deep in conversation, and he realized they were talking cartoons, both getting overly excited as they landed on their love of Gravity Falls. And Virgil… Virgil was vanishing down the hall. He heard a door open, then almost, but not quite, slam shut.   
“Are you gonna handle that, scales?” Roman asked, the nickname lacking any ire or harmful intent for once. Milo was surprised to find that he liked it.   
“No rest for the wicked.” He replied with a sigh, getting to his feet.   
“Word of warning for ya, I haven’t seen the kiddo in a mood like that since before he ducked *quack* out.” Patton said, breaking away from his conversation for a moment.   
“Noted. Also, clearly Stan is the best character. Chronic rule breaker, criminal, liar, all with the best interest of his family at heart? I mean, really.” He said, summoning his hat as he swept out of the room.   
“He appreciates Cipher’s style, but the demon Dorito is more my wheelhouse personality wise. He had ideas…” He heard Remus comment before he passed out of hearing range.   
Then he was in front of Virgil’s darkly painted door. He knocked politely, a few soft raps in their secret pattern he’d always used when they were still just Dark Sides. No answer.   
“Virgil, I know you’re in there. Please open up.” He heard a vague shifting noise, but no footsteps. “Come on Lucian, I just want to talk.” He knew the use of his old name would get a reaction, but he wasn’t expecting the door to slam open, Virgil glaring up at him, black eyeliner tracking down his face.   
“Oh, you want to talk? Now, you want to talk?” He asked, voice raised, a hint of an echo ringing in it. Milo backed away, hands raised.   
“I know you’re upset-“ Virgil let out a bark of scathing laughter.   
“Upset? That’s cute, that you think I’m upset. It really is. I’m not upset. I’m not even angry. I’m fucking livid. How many times have I had to patch you up? How many times have I begged you to take the advice you kept giving me and just talk to someone? How many times did I have to fight to make sure the others didn’t notice a goddamn thing was wrong? And now? Now is when you pull this shit?” He laughed again, a bit on the hysterical side, the eyeliner running down his face, leaving black tracks against his cheeks as he backed Milo against the wall.   
“How dare you?! Everyone was happy, everyone was getting along, I wasn’t supposed to have to WORRY ABOUT YOU ANYMORE!” He screamed, voice deep, shaking the entire mindscape, making the others pause for a moment in their discussions.   
“Should we step in?” Logan asked, glancing towards the hallway. Remus grinned, teeth seemingly sharper, eyes gleaming.   
“Hell. No. You’ve never seen Virgie in full on Dark Mode. You do not wanna get in the middle of that. Plus, dear old Dee deserves a stern talking to. He had this coming.” 

Milo was speechless. Virgil was glaring up at him, black mascara and eye shadow marks crisscrossing in rivulets across his face, his eye blazing with light, his fists clenched at his sides, his rage a palpable force that very nearly knocked Milo back a few steps.   
“Virg I… I wasn’t thinking. I would never… I didn’t mean to…” He laughed again, harsher.   
“Of course you weren’t. You never think of anyone but yourself, do you? Did you think what would happen to Thomas without the ability to lie? Ever? Did you think what it would do to me? What watching you die, would do to me!? I thought I could let my guard down, the one time I let my guard down-” Virgil was gasping in breaths, barely able to control himself, to control what he was saying.   
“Virgil. I need you to breathe with me.” Virgil stumbled back, shaking his head.   
“No. nonono you don’t get to calm me down, you don’t get to mother hen me, you don’t have the right to pull that shit now, not after what you did to yourself. I don’t need your help, right? No point in you sticking around. I don’t need you, you made it plenty clear that’s what you think, just like you don’t need your scales, just like you don’t want them.” Virgil spat, shadows lengthening around him, becoming darker. “Clearly they’re just a burden, clearly there’s no point even trying, clearly you don’t see anything here worth sticking it out for.”   
“You’re right.” Virgil froze, a thousand emotions flickering across his face, and he deflated instantly as he realized the words that had come out of Milo’s mouth, his whole posture dropping, the anger vanishing in a split second.  
“What?” He whispered.   
“I said you’re right. I didn’t want them. I never wanted them. I hated them.” Virgil drew back, hurt rushing across his face, ready to retreat into his room, throwing him off guard, and Milo managed to capture the side in his arms, to hold him tight even as he beat against him, slamming his fists against Milo’s chest.   
“Let go! You don’t get to… you don’t have any right… not after… let go, letgoletgoletgo let go…” His muffled words trailed off into sobs, as he clung tight to Milo’s shirt. Milo carefully lowered them both to the ground as Virgil’s legs gave out from under him, the sobs wracking his entire frame, and Mi found himself extending his seldom used extra arms to cradle him more securely, feeling his own tears slip down his face.   
“I didn’t love them, the scales, I didn’t love them until now, because now I know they were made by you. They’re beautiful, virg, and you made them, and I love them, and I’m sorry. I’ve never not wanted you, I’ve never not loved you. I didn’t mean to leave you, virg, I wasn’t thinking straight and I’m so, so glad you came for me. I’m so fucking happy you had the faith in me that I didn’t have in myself, that you put me back together like you always do, that you made me listen when I didn’t want to. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, virg, I’m sorry. I was an idiot and stupid and a clueless moron and I will never, never, never, even think of doing something like that again.” Carefully, he released the grip holding Virgil in place, unsure if he was still going to fight him, unsure what to expect.  
“You have to make a new room. As soon as you’re able. You’ve already been without it and sick for a week, and you can’t-“ Virgil’s voice cracked, and Mi held him tighter, kissing the top of his head in a fatherly way.   
“I will, I will, right now, I can manage to connect to one, at least.”   
“Thomas said he’d help decorate. If you can’t summon stuff, he could help. Just so it felt a little homey, until you’re able to do it properly.” Virgil sniffled, swiping his sweater sleeves across his face, smearing dark makeup everywhere. Milo laughed despite himself.   
“Alright. Room first, then I’m helping you get cleaned up.   
“You could have the room next to Remus.” Virgil said, rubbing futiley at his face.   
“What?”   
“Remus he… he moved up here. While you were… out. So he could be closer. A-and him and Roman are doing really well.” Milo smiled.   
“I’m glad. He’s been wanting that for a long time. I’m sure a certain little night owl had absolutely nothing to do with it.” He replied, earning a weak laugh from Virgil. Milo materialized a handkerchief, so Virgil could at least prevent more tears from spreading the dark makeup across more of his face.   
“Are we… are we ok?” Virgil asked quietly, accepting the proffered hankie.  
“I’ve told you before, Virg, that’s up to you.” Virgil nodded, taking a deep breath.  
“ok, we’re… we’re ok then. As long as you never pull that shit again, as long as I … it’s ok, to be depressed, Mi. I understand the feeling, but what you did isn’t…” He emphasized, and Milo hugged him tight once more, just for a moment.   
“I know. I won’t. I swear.”   
“Good. Let’s get to work, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last chapter! Thanks for reading.


End file.
